Uncle Jonesy's Cameras Podcast #29: Let’s Swap Cameras!

Kevin happily swapped his Nikon FE for this!

All around the world, the seasons are changing, cameras are being loaded, and moments and places are being preserved on film. It’s what we do! In this solo show, Shutter Brother Kevin talks about his recent camera swap with fellow Shutter Brother Kelley. Kelley has been looking for a Nikon manual focus camera body to serve as a back-up to his Nikon F3, which currently is being serviced. Since Kevin has not been using his Nikon FE lately, he offered to swap it with Kelley, and in return he got a super nice Minolta X-570. The X-570 is a very close sibling to the Minolta X-700, but Kevin explains why it could become a personal favorite.

Next, Kevin talks about some seemingly “ordinary” photographs that were accidentally added to his television screen saver but are now cherished memories of places and events from the past that are no longer around. Whenever we photographers are feeling uninspired, using your camera to record the ordinary in life is not only good skills practice, but it helps to avoid regret for the photographs you wished you had taken.

Kevin's drum set and home recording studio are
gone, but this photograph captured the memories.

Red Oak Creek Covered Bridge, Woodbury, Georgia
Minolta Maxxum 7000 and Kodak Pro Image 100 film.

Then, Kevin relates his initial experience with Kodak Pro Image 100 color negative film. Kodak labels this film as a “professional” like Portra, Ektar, Tri-X, and TMax, but Pro Image 100 costs the same as Kodak's “consumer” films like Gold 200, Color Plus 200, and Ultramax 400. The box states that Pro Image 100 is for “weddings, portraits, and events,” but Kevin forgot to read the box and used the film to photograph some landscape and nature scenes. How did the film do? Listen to find out.

Finally, Kevin reviews a wonderful coffee table book from the Anonymous Project called, Mid-Century Memories by Lee Shulman. The book presents almost 300 color images taken from the 700,000 images collected by the Anonymous Project, an organization that collects vintage color slides that have become “orphaned.” An orphaned photograph is one that has been separated from the people who were involved with its making to the extent that the identities of the people in the photograph are unknown. The photos in this book beautifully display everyday (and not so everyday) moments of people who, thanks to the available of affordable color film, were persistent in using their camera to record their lives on film. And the film of choice overwhelmingly was Kodachrome. Needless to say, Kevin loves this book!

You can listen to UJC #29 on your favorite podcast source or by clicking here.

As always, the Shutter Brothers would love to hear from their listeners. You can email them at unclejonesyscamera@gmail.com. You can follow the podcast on Facebook and Instagram at @ujcpodcast.

Happy Shooting!

In Praise of the (not so) Lowly Minolta XG-1 (My First Real Camera)

There can be only one first camera. This is the story of mine.

In late summer of 1980,  having graduated from Tennessee Tech University with my B.S. in Music Education the previous June, I got my first teaching job in the same greater Atlanta area school district where I when to high school. I had to wait for over a month for my first paycheck to be deposited into my bank account, but on that glorious day (a Friday, I think) my brother, Kelley (who like me had also gotten a music teaching job in the same district) got into his car and headed downtown to an Atlanta camera store and purchased our first real cameras. Time has blurred our memories, and neither of us can remember precisely the name of the retailer, nor do we have any paper work still. (UPDATE:  Through some research, I now know that it was Crown Camera Exchange at 980 Piedmont Avenue NE. The building now houses a restaurant.) I do remember vividly, as we drove home with two brand new boxes each (one for the camera body and one for the lenses), how excited we both were to finally have “real cameras,” and straightway we loaded them with film we also purchased and put them to use. 

What cameras did we bring home that day? The lowly Minolta XG-1. Why this camera? Two reasons: First, we were very familiar with Minolta cameras already, as we had eagerly watched our Uncle Jonesy use his SRT-202 many, many times. Second, the cost. Kelley and I had searched the newspaper cameras store ads diligently all summer looking for bargains. As autumn came and we began our new jobs, we found the best bargain yet:  a brand new SLR and lens for less then $200.

First introduced in 1978, the Minolta XG-1 was a budget camera intended beginning photographers who wanted to get into 35mm photography with a single lens reflex camera as cheaply as possible. Although it was a small-bodied lightweight that fit nicely in the hands, it lacked several features found on Minolta's more advanced (and more costly) XD series cameras. For example, although the XG-1 had both an aperture priority auto exposure mode and a manual mode, the meter would not function in manual mode at all. Clearly, the camera was not meant to be used in manual mode, and if you did, you were on your own in determining exposure. Additionally, the viewfinder was limited in the information it gave you. The selected aperture was not displayed, so I had to take my eye away from the viewfinder and look at the lens itself to change the aperture. Also, even though the shutter speeds were represented by LED dots next to the numbers, only a single dot represented between 1/30 and 1second. And like I said, these LED's only lit up when the camera was in auto exposure mode.

Consequently, I used the auto exposure mode all the time. I would set an aperture, and the camera would choose the correct shutter speed and display its choice in the viewfinder with LED-lit numbers. However, the XG-1 did have one very useful feature that I should have taken more advantage of:  exposure compensation. By pushing a small button near the shutter speed dial, you can add or subtract exposure up to two stops in half-stop increments. Why would you want to do this? Because all camera meters want to made every lighting situation "average," and they get fooled sometimes in certain light situations of with certain subjects. For example, when photographing snow, the camera's meter sees a lot of light being reflected back to it and thinks that less exposure is needed.

When you see the resulting photograph, the snow looks gray instead of white. By adding a stop or two, you override the meter's choice and make the snow look like snow. For darker subjects, you would do just the opposite. Some lighting situations require compensation as well. For example, when shooting a sunset, adding stops ("opening up") will give detail to objects in the foreground, while subtracting stops ("stopping down") will make them silhouettes. I made quite a few underexposed and overexposed slides in my early days of using this camera because I did not use exposure compensation.

I should say something about the lens that was bundled with the camera that day in 1980, the Minolta Rokkor MD 45mm f2. Today collectors call this type of lens a "pancake" lens because of its shorter length. I do remember looking at it and thinking that it didn't look as "professional" as those bigger 50mm f1.2 lens I would see in the brochures I collected. However, nowadays the 45mm f2 is sought-after by those who want a lighter and less obtrusive lens and a slightly shorter focal length on a standard lens. 

The XG-1 also lacked some other nice features like depth of field preview, and film memo clip. It didn't have the bright accu matte focusing screen or the silicon cell meters that it's more expensive siblings had. But I didn't care about any of that at all. I had a "real" camera for the first time, and I shot and shot. My film of choice was Kodachrome, and I put dozens and dozens of rolls of film through my XG-1. When I look at those slides today, I have to say that results were pretty good and sometimes really good. The 45mm f2 performed quite well, producing nice sharp images with good color rendition. However, with all cameras, it is the photographer who makes the photograph. The more I shot with it, the more I learned. I think there is a lesson in that. 

Old Salem, North Carolina, 1987
Kodachrome 64, Minolta XG-1, 50mm f2 lens

Salem College, North Carolina, 1986
Kodachrome 64, Minolta XG-1, 50mm f2 lens

Chatham, Massachusetts, 1986
Kodachrome 64, Minolta XG-1, 50mm f2 lens

Today, I hear a lot of film photography hobbyists talking about the ideal first or "student" camera, and the camera that still gets mentioned the most is the Pentax K1000. Why? I suppose it is because the K1000 (like the Minolta SRT series cameras) have full metered manual control, and this is supposed to help the beginning photographer learn how exposure works. But I contend that the only way you can prove that you know how exposure works it to . . . turn off the meter and choose both the aperture and shutter speed yourself. The only way you can do this with the Pentax K1000 is to take out the battery (you can switch off the meter on the Minolta SRT series cameras). Certainly, the K1000 and the SRT cameras also are held in high regard because they have mechanical shutters. But some cameras with electronic shutters are steeples. That is, if the meter calls for a shutter speed in-between 1/60 and 1/125, it could do that.

You probably can see where I am going with this. To my knowledge, the Minolta XG-1 has never been mentioned as the "perfect student camera," but I happen to think that it is a great choice for those just getting into film photography. With an XG-1, you can just rely on the meter at first and concentrate on composition and story, two really important parts of photography that we don't talk about enough. However, it is crucial that the beginner pays careful attention to how the camera chooses the exposure. At some point along the way, the student can (and should) put the XG-1 into manual mode and shoot without the help of a meter. Of course, this requires thinking about the exposure. Sure, mistakes will be made, but that is how we learn! And I think that a greater understanding of light, which is the essence of photography, will become the foundation for exploring more creative techniques and creating a personal style.

The Minolta XG-1 is the perfect camera for this for another reason. Although like most all film cameras, it is quite inexpensive and very easy to find. You might find one at your local Goodwill (or use the Goodwill website) for less than $20 with a lens. Of course, you have to make sure that the camera works first. And here's more. The XG-1 can be used with the full line of Minolta manual focus lenses, which are not only relatively cheap and easy to find, but also very good to excellent in quality. Finally, it takes two LR 44 silver oxide batteries or one 1/3N lithium batteries, which are sold everywhere.

I would love to tell you that I still have my first real camera, that Minolta XG-1 but sadly, I do not (I still have the original owners manual, strangely). Sometime in the late 1980's the shutter locked up. I took it to a camera dealer who told me it wasn't worth fixing, so I sold it to him and bought a used Minolta SRT-201. He probably fixed the camera himself and then resold it. Who knows, maybe it's still out there somewhere.  Now, I do NOT need anymore cameras, so I am not looking to pick up an XG-1 just to add to my "collection." However, if I were to come across a cheap working one that needed "rescuing," I might not be able to retrain myself. Nostalgia can be a powerful thing, but more likely I would shoot with it some and then find a young beginning film photographer to pass it on to. I am plenty blessed with nice cameras, but there can be only one first camera. The Minolta XG-1 was mine. A perfect first camera, at that!

All photographs of the Minolta XG-1 camera are used under Creative Commons.

An Anniversary of Sorts

A year ago today, March 12, my wife, Debbie and I woke up at 5:15 am, performed our normal morning routine, and drove to our respective elementary schools for another day of working with our students. Although I did not know it at the time, it would be the last day I would ever see my students as their music teacher in my classroom. 

That day a year ago (a Thursday) was not a normal day, as we knew something was up. The rumors about school being cancelled for a few weeks had been flying for a couple of days, even though our superintendent sent out a message to employees stating emphatically that the rumors were "not true." Moments after students were dismissed to go home at the end of the school day, however, another message came declaring that schools were to be closed until after spring break. So much for rumors.

At TMR with Ben Blackwell and Jack White

The last job-related task I did that day was to lead a rehearsal of my beloved after school chorus, the Woodstation Singers. I love all my students, but my Singers are a special group of talented, intelligent, artistic, music-loving kids that make being a music teacher seem like working as a taste tester at the Hershey's chocolate factory. We have done some amazing things together over the years.

TMR 447:  Our 2nd release

We recorded two seven inch records for Jack White's Third Man Records, including a cover of one of his most well known songs, "We're Going to Be Friends." When Third Man published a book based on that song, our recording was included with every copy as a digital download, and as a result, the Woodstation Singers have been heard all over the world. We even got to perform at book release events at TMR in Nashville and at Barnes and Nobles in Chattanooga and appear on television. Furthermore, my Singers have premiered two original musicals that I composed (and of which I am quite proud.) At that last rehearsal, we worked on our school talent show music, which was going to be a all out crazy performance of two Queen songs ("Radio Gaga" and "We Are the Champions") with costumes and choreography based on Queen's legendary performance at Live Aid in 1985. The Singers fell in love with "Radio Gaga" (imagine 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade boys and girls going up and down the hall singing, "All we hear is radio gaga - radio goo - radio blah blah; Radio, what's new? Someone still loves you!")

At TMR promoting the "Friends" book

When the last melodies were sung that day, I said my usual goodbyes to each student and tried to comfort their worries about the future. However, a few days later the word came down that schools would remain closed for the rest of the term. I taught daily video music lessons throughout the spring and held video chats with my Singers twice a week. We tried singing together once, but sound delay issues made that impossible. So, we simply talked to each other and shared how we were dealing with quarantine. On what was to be the last day of the term, I went back to the school to help as students turned in their computers in "drive-by" fashion." I wore a mask, of course, so I hope they knew I was there.

I could not have known that my music teaching career would end that day. Certainly, I had been thinking of retirement and was actually planning to do so after two more years. I knew time was catching up with me like an old ballplayer who, after swinging and missing a 98 mph heater for strike three, walks back to the bench knowing that he can't catch up to the fastball anymore, or a pitcher who would never argue with an umpire in his prime but now barks angrily at a missed call on a pitch, not because it actually was in the strike zone but because his arm hurts so bad that he doesn't know if he can even throw another pitch. I once heard David Letterman talk about his retirement, saying that he worked hard at something for most of his life, but he wanted to save some time to do something else.

Debbie and I made the decision to retire in July when our district reversed course and decided to open schools fully for the 2020-21 term. Looking back, I am thankful for the district's decision, because time is precious and two years is even more precious at my age. Retiring was (and remains) the right call. Of course I miss my students and all the magical musical moments we made together, but I have the memories and the satisfaction that their lives are better because of music, just like mine is.

And I'm not through with teaching, either. I joined the team at Safelight District Community Darkroom as an educator, and I am in charge of developing and teaching classes and workshops related to film photography. We have big plans when the pandemic is over, and I even hope to be hosting a "film camp" where I will be teaching children how to shoot film!

That Letterman quote, "Save some time to do something else," rings in my head a lot still. The past 365 days have gone by faster than any year of my life, and I expect time only to go by faster and faster each succeeding year. Each day is a gift waiting to be opened, enjoyed, made use of, and be thankful for. And while you are at it, load that camera up with some film and capture some memories. 

Happy Shooting!